in the eye of the beholder
by shadows and sunshine
Summary: Fleur Delacour. Draco Malfoy. Bellatrix Lestrange. Harry Potter. Molly Weasley. Tom Riddle. Albus Dumbledore. Seven stories, one hundred words each--their interpretations of beauty.


Okay. So. This is for the 'Beauty Is' Challenge from the HPFC forum. It was so much fun. I had a good time doing a bunch of different characters instead of just one, like I usually do, and I hope I did them justice.

xxx

_in the eye of the beholder_

i. Fleur Delacour knows what beauty is—a curse that binds her mouth shut, that sends jealous gazes in her direction too many times to count, and whispers behind her back when they think she can't hear. Beauty is betrayal like the crack of a whip, friends that aren't friends, and boys that wear her on their arm like a trophy.

Beauty is teachers staring skeptically at her when she raises her hand (_"there's no way she knows the answer"), _wanting to smash every mirror she sees and scream until all the pieces have shattered and she can't see her reflection.

ii. Draco Malfoy knows what beauty is—beauty is dark curly hair and curving ruby lips, white against white sprawled out among his sheets. Beauty is muttered curses and the way she writes her words (_"I love you") _with kisses on his skin. Beauty is the way she looks in her wedding dress, standing beside the lilies in lace. Beauty is when he sees her name written out (_"Astoria G. Malfoy"), _reminding him that she's _his _now.

Beauty is the way she unwraps the bandage around his upper arm and traces the ink burned into his skin with the lightest touch.

iii. Bellatrix Lestrange knows what beauty is—beauty is the skull and snake forever imprinted on her skin and the way it writhes when he's calling. Beauty is slitted red eyes and the promise of love. Beauty is red blood spilled out, a flash of green light, and screams fading into darkness. Beauty is watching the doors of her cell flung open, her wand tossed into her waiting hands.

Beauty is the look of shock on her cousin's face as he falls through the veil. Beauty is those same slitted eyes staring down at her with approval and, she hopes, love.

iv. Harry Potter knows what beauty isn't—beauty isn't seeing his name printed on every paper in large letters, his picture blown up on the cover. Beauty isn't the whispered rumors (_"the Boy who Lived"), _and it isn't the words spilling out of Sybil Trelawney's mouth as she rotates slowly and then sinks back into silver.

But it does look a little like red hair and words etched on gravestones (_"the last enemy defeated is death"), _like the color of dawn and the taste of victory between his teeth. It looks like red-faced babies with their father's hair and green eyes.

v. Molly Weasley knows what beauty is—beauty is spooning food onto waiting plates, and the moment of glorious denial after she accidentally sets out nine dinnerplates. Beauty is the rare occasion when she gets to bury her head into her child's hair, still smelling like the baby they were eighteen or nineteen or twenty years ago. Beauty is smiling faces and happy voices, (_"Mum, you're a grandma now!"), _and even the tears that follow.

Beauty is the family gathered around a table—banging silverware and talking and laughing, and the single, blurred-by-tears second when the eight Weasleys become nine again.

vi. Tom Riddle doesn't know what beauty is—it's not the burning stares of the other students and their whispers (_"freak, freak!"_), it's not toys or books or running on the playground, and it's not deep thoughts alone in the darkness either. It's not the medal with his name written on it (_"head boy"_), and it's not the feeling of victory or the way the Dark Mark lights up the sky. It's not pale, groveling faces behind metal masks, or cold bodies littering the ground.

Tom doesn't know what beauty is, and yet he spends every day hoping to find it.

vii. Albus Dumbledore knows what beauty is—beauty is the scarlet train at King's Cross station, the towers of Hogwarts and the lake below. It's blonde hair and six-year-old voices (_"read, Al," and he does), _it's dark-haired boys with blazing eyes that he can't ever have. It's light reflecting off the gilded edges of books, all the knowledge and power he'll ever need between their pages.

Beauty is forgiveness (_"it's not your fault"), _long wool socks, summer air, breath in his ear (_"we'll rule the world together, you and I"), _dark and light and life and death and everything in between.

xxx

Molly Weasley's was actually the last one I wrote, and I felt myself tearing up a little. I tried to pick characters that could look at beauty in all different ways that were true to their personality: resentment, love, devotion to the point of insanity, uncertainty, family, nonexistence, and acceptance. This piece is so deep it scares me a little bit, so I'm going to shut up now. XD Review!


End file.
